


Pants, Exit Stage Left

by twilightstargazer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Fluff, Non-Explicit Sex, background wellven - Freeform, gina and clarke could have been bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstargazer/pseuds/twilightstargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You live across from me in our apartments and we smile when we see each other but we don’t really know each other and oh you’re the stripper at my friend’s stag do/hen night fuck this is really uncomfortable.</p><p>or,</p><p>Clarke knows next to nothing about her hot neighbour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pants, Exit Stage Left

**Author's Note:**

> This got... a little bit out of hand. #No regrets

Clarke’s been living next to 318 for the better part of six months, and yet she barely knows anything about the guy. Granted that it’s not particularly abnormal to not know much about the people living next door to you in a ten storey building, but she finds it oddly unsatisfying that, in the almost six months she’s lived there, she’s only garnered a handful of facts about her seldom seen neighbour.

She knows that he works odd hours; more often than not she hears his shower running at 3am through the thin wall that separates their apartments. Sometimes she even bumps into him the lobby when he’s on his way out around the same time she’s coming back from the clinic and they exchange small, tight smiles. They even nod at the other on occasion.

She knows that he’s a fairly formidable cook judging from the various mouth watering aromas that tend to seep into her living room and leaves her gazing woefully at her collection of take out menus stacked on the counter before ordering pad Thai for the third time this week.

She knows he has a terrible case of bitch resting face but he did hold the elevator for her that one time so he can’t be a total douche bag (at least she hopes not.) Plus her cat seems to like him considering she’s always mewling at him whenever she hears him puttering about in his apartment and she knows Histi wouldn't like someone who's actually a dick. At least she hopes so.

And she knows that he quite possibly goes running or to the gym or _something_ every morning which is. Distracting to say the least. She doesn't know how to deal with seeing him make his way back into the building with sweat soaked curls and a damp threadbare t shirt that clings to his torso just so. Meanwhile Clarke looks like a blind baby sewer rat squinting through the early morning sun as she goes downstairs to collect her post. It’s not fair.

But yeah, even though she’d like to get to know 318 better, she meant under normal circumstances, like a coffee shop or while grocery shopping. Hell, maybe even being in the elevator at the same time and striking up conversation would work.

Yet lo and behold, here he is at her best friend’s bachelorette party at the bar they’re at for the night as the ‘surprise’ performance which is the furthest from normal circumstances as one can get.

***

Clarke moved out of the apartment she shared with Raven when Wells finally moved to town to live with her. She loved them both dearly and was obviously over the moon about their relationship, but she could not live under the same roof as them for long without feeling like the awkward third wheel at times.

Which is why she finally packed up shop and moved to her new place after Raven and Wells finally got engaged. The apartment was pretty sweet- no suspicious stains, windows big enough for her to climb through and sit on the little balcony like thing, an actual bath in addition to the shower- and since one of the first things she saw after she moved in was 318 coming back from his morning whatever, well, she began to appreciate it even more.

(On more than one occasion she had gotten drunk with Raven and ranted about 318’s hair because, ‘fuck, doesn’t he know how to use a brush? Plus he’s always making it worst with his fucking hands, it’s not fair. And not to mention his _face_ , oh my god. So many freckles. So many.’)

(She finds out all of this the next day when she wakes up in her old room feeling like death warmed over from an unnervingly chipper Raven. Needless to say, she has yet to live down _that_ reputation.)

***

Gina is someone Clarke only knows in a vague kind of way. She knows that she dated Raven for a month or so a few years back before agreeing that they were better suited as friends, and she knows that it’s usually in Gina’s bar Raven drags her off too to get shitfaced, but, because Clarke prefers a booth to the bar since it’s easier to crawl over both Wells and Raven and tell them how much she loves them, they’ve never had any sort of substantial conversation which is why they’re only friends in a by the way matter.

But Gina is nice and offered to let them have Raven’s bachelorette party here the Friday before the wedding free of charge at her bar _and_ she’s bartending for them too.

(‘Consider this your wedding gift,’ she said with a wink when the two of them tried to rebuff her.)

‘How are you doing?’ asks Gina, sliding Clarke her drink across the counter.

She takes a huge gulp, forgoing the tiny straw, before answering her. ‘Tired. I can’t wait to get this wedding over. Wells wants whatever Raven wants, and Raven has nearly no opinions about anything other than robots and ‘that one guy from Mad Max. The one with the flame thrower guitar.’ I love them, but they are useless when it comes to planning things.’

Gina cracks open a beer for herself and flashes Clarke a wry grin. ‘That sounds like Raven, yeah. Everything go well though?’

‘I’ve resorted to just showing her pictures and getting whatever makes her light up the most. And I may have threatened Wells a bit saying that if he didn’t give me something to work with for the menu I’m ordering pizza.’

‘In all honesty, I wouldn’t mind have pizza at my reception.’

Clarke snorts and takes another gulp of her drink, this time smaller than the last. ‘That’s because you didn’t grow up with Wells’ family,’ she says, smiling, ‘Someone is bound to have a conniption fit if there aren’t at least three courses and he knows this. Like I said, I can’t wait to get this over and then sleep for like, a week.’

‘From how things sound, you’ll definitely deserve it. If you need any last minute help you can call me,’ says Gina, scribbling down her number on a napkin.

She folds the napkin and puts in her pocket, making a mental not to enter the number in to her phone as soon as she gets back to her purse. ‘Trust me, you’ve done enough. Thanks again for figuring out tonight by the way.’ Clarke is probably going to send her thank you cupcakes every week for the rest of her life after this. Gina is _awesome_.

She smiles at her again. ‘No worries. How’s the bride to be?’

Clarke huffs out a laugh. ‘Semi drunk and yelling at everyone to get in line so she could kick their ass at darts,’ replies Clarke, taking a sip. ‘So she’s doing well. I’ve never seen her this happy. Not even when she made a bigoted white dude cry at a robotics lecture.’

Gina grins at her, a quick flash of white teeth bordered by red lipstick glinting in the neon lighting. ‘Think you could get her to pause for a little bit? I’ve got a little surprise for her. It should be in about,’ she glances at her phone, ‘Twenty minutes or so.’

‘Surprise?’ says Clarke, toying with the thin straw in the glass.

Her grin turns vicious all of sudden, twisting up into a smirk. ‘I got a friend of mine to do me a favour.’

‘What kind of favour?’ Clarke asks suspiciously.

Her smirk widens. ‘Nothing much. Just a little... show.’

‘You hired a stripper, didn’t you,’ deadpans Clarke.

Gina throws her head back and laughs. ‘I didn’t hire him. Like I said, he’s a friend. He’s doing me a favour. And, from what Raven has told me, you’ll like him,’ she adds with a wink. ‘Freckles, and hands, and the fucking hair, right?’

Clarke’s cheeks flame and she bites back a groan. ‘Did she tell everyone that?’ she hisses, downing the rest of her drink to cool her embarrassment.

‘It’s cute,’ laughs Gina, before singlehandedly doing a row of shots for Monroe to carry back to the table. ‘But yeah, from what Raven has told me about you, you’ll probably like him. He’s cool. A little nerdy, always has to have the last word and into hot blondes who apparently never wear anything besides tank tops, but cool. You guys might click.’

‘Sounds charming,’ huffs Clarke, folding her arms across her chest and pouting sullenly. ‘I’m going to kill Raven.’

‘Hey,’ says Gina, going serious all of a sudden, ‘She was just looking out for you; I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm.’

She sighs, slumping forward. ‘Yeah, I know.’

Gina claps her on the shoulder good naturedly before quickly mixing another drink and sliding it over for her. She plops two bright pink umbrellas into it. ‘Good. Now go out there and have some fun. You look like your just sitting at the bar and moping.’

Clarke rolls her eyes but takes the drink anyway. ‘Thanks.’

Gina smiles. ‘No problem,’ she says before swatting her shoulder with the rag she was using to wipe down the counter, ‘Now go. Loosen up. This is supposed to be a bachelorette party and yet there’s a huge lack plastic tiaras and dick jokes.’

She makes a face at her but takes off anywhere, heading to the back where the rest of girls were congregated. There is a pack of cheap plastic crowns on the table, lying untouched next to a now empty bottle of champagne. Someone had stuck up balloons and taped pictures of Skynet onto them to hit with darts while others sung karaoke in the corner, Raven amongst them. A few minutes later, Gina brings a tray full of jello shots over to them and sticks around when Raven suddenly detaches from the group and demands that she play beer pong with her, throwing friendly insults at each other when they do begin.

Suddenly, Clarke is struck with an overwhelming wave of fondness and, after the game, she buries herself against Raven’s side, pressing her face into her neck.

‘I’m so happy for you,’ she tells her, getting some of her hair caught in her mouth.

Raven just smiles goofily- the same one she’s been wearing all night, and clumsily pats her cheek. ‘I know babe,’ she says before smacking a sloppy kiss on the top of Clarke’s head.

The two of them stay like that, curled into each other and offering drunken compliments until she catches Gina’s eye again. The older girl jerks her head and gestures towards the spot she had cleared out earlier.

‘Gina’s got a surprise for you,’ Clarke tells Raven, who only grunts and focuses on braiding the little section of Clarke’s hair in her hands. She loves drunk Raven; she gets tactile and friendly and will violently cuddle the nearest person. She grabs her hand, eliciting a grumble from her and tugs her towards the floor. ‘Come on.’

It’s not that hard for her to round up everyone and direct them to the chairs that Gina set out beforehand. Once she’s got them settled, she scans the room for Gina and spots her chatting with someone at the end of the bar.

The bar is dim, but she has no problem making out the male figure standing there. He’s in a pair of pants slung almost obscenely low on his hips, with suspenders looped over each broad tan shoulder and a grease stained wife beater that clings to his torso in way that sends all sorts of inappropriate thoughts through her mind. Combined with his head of messy curls and lean, muscular arms, it’s a wonder she hasn’t started salivating as yet.

Shaking her head to clear it, Clarke finally ventures over to the pair. When Gina sees her approaching, she smirks and mutters something to her companion. However, when he turns around, she stops in her tracks because the hot stripper who she was just oh so blatantly checking out just so happens to be 318.

Thankfully, she’s not alone in her shock as 318’s cheeks immediately go pink when he catches sight of her and he scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck, once again bringing attention to his arms.

‘Clarke!’ Gina says happily, still smirking, ‘This is my friend, Bellamy.’

318- _Bellamy_ \- snorts. ‘We’ve met,’ he says dryly, voice low and gravelly, sending a flash of heat through her as if she isn’t fucked enough already.

The older girl’s smirk falls as she glances between the two of them, brow delicately wrinkling in to a frown. ‘He’s my, uh, neighbour,’ Clarke clarifies, coughing slightly and hoping that her blush isn’t too noticeable in the dim neon lighting.

A glint enters Gina’s eyes. ‘Ah,’ she says cryptically, ‘I see.’ She turns back around and gives Bellamy a significant look, one which he pointedly ignores, focusing on fiddling with belt and-. Clarke snaps her eyes back up before anyone can notice that she was staring at his fingers. ‘I’m going to get your music set up,’ she tells him before plucking the CD from his hand, ‘Clarke, you stay here and keep him company okay.’

‘That’s not-’

‘She doesn’t have to-’

Gina cuts them both off with a hard look and their jaws snap shut. Satisfied, she flounces back behind the bar, towards the other end and starts messing around with the sound system.

‘So,’ Bellamy says, his voice sounding oddly chipper, ‘This is awkward.’

Clarke can’t help but snort at that. ‘Oh yeah. You know what’s even worse though? I’ve lived next to you for six months and had to get your name from our apparently mutual bartender.’

He grins at her all of a sudden, exposing a row of pearly white teeth that she wants to feel against her skin. ‘Bellamy Blake, 318,’ he says, holding out his hand for her to shake.

His hand is large and tan, just like the rest of him, with a freckle on the tip of his thumb, matching the ones scattered across his face. When she slips her hand in his, it’s warm and rough and she suddenly feels like there’s an electric current buzzing beneath her skin. ‘Clarke Griffin, 319,’ she replies after they’ve shook, he still holding her hand loose in his.

‘Showtime folks,’ says Gina, popping up behind them with a grin. She spots their hands and it widens even further. ‘Come on, Blake; you’re not getting paid to stand around and talk.’

‘I’m not getting paid at all actually,’ he responds wryly, even as he pushes off the wall.

She brushes him off with a wave of her hand. ‘Please. I give you all your drinks for free and listen to you moan about your pathetic life. That’s payment enough.’

Bellamy rolls his eyes good naturedly while grinning, before glancing over at Clarke. ‘Alright, I’m coming.’ He looks over to her again, seeming to want to say something else but changes his mind, instead following Gina out onto the makeshift dance floor where he’s greeted by catcalls and cheers.

As Gina brushes past her to turn on his music, she makes sure to mutter, ‘Remember when I told you he has a thing for hot blondes? He may have specifically said his hot blonde _neighbour_ ,’ and winks at her. The current buzzing underneath her skin gets a thousand times stronger, threatening to set her on fire from the inside out.

And when she finally starts the music and lets the deep pulsing bass flow out the speakers? Clarke burns.

His hips circle and sway in a slow, sensuous motion, captivating each member of the meagre audience in front of him. She watches as his muscles bunch and flex beneath the fireman get up as he languorously pulls down one suspender, and then the other, letting them hang on each side of his pants, which are already slipping down to expose the grey band of his boxers underneath. His hands flirt with the hem of his shirt as he teases each one of the women sitting in front him. When he finally goes to pull it off, he locks eyes with Clarke before ever so slowly tugging it up, not once breaking his stare with her, even as the crowd goes crazy.

She honest to god whimpers when his head pops out of the shirt, curls a million times messier than before and eyes blazing. She can’t look anywhere besides miles of tan skin pulled taut over muscles and when he gives her a blatant once over and _smirks_ , she clutches the bar top, leaning all her weight on it.

His hands drop to his pants next, teasingly trailing his fingers across the lip of it and that’s it, Clarke can’t take anymore. She immediately turns around and hightails it to the bathroom where she forces herself to catch her breath. The girl staring back at her in the mirror is frenzied; pupils blown wide so that there’s nothing else but a thin circle of blue around them, mouth swollen and red from where she was biting it and skin completely flushed.

She grips the counter top with bone white knuckles and takes deep breaths, trying to calm her heart thumping against get sternum. She could still feel the beat of the music reverberating through the walls, could still hear the occasional squeal as he shed more and more clothes.

Clarke shuts her eyes and determinedly forces herself to not think about that. It seems unreal, that the hot neighbour she’s spent most of her time lusting over is not only the stripper for her best friend’s bachelorette party, but also seemingly into her if what Gina said was true. Fuck, she hopes it’s true. Honestly, at this point she’s not sure whether she wants to laugh or cry at this coincidence. Probably both. If all works out well and fine, she’ll have to give the earth a great, big hug.

She spends a few more minutes in the bathroom to compose herself before wetting a paper towel to pat her face with. By now the music has stopped and was replaced by the soft thrum of the bar's usual beat. With one last glance at herself in the mirror, she walks back out into the bar. The rest of the girls are chatting animatedly amongst themselves, Raven standing in the midst while Gina stands once more behind the bar. She smirks when she catches sight of Clarke to which the other girl flips her off for.

'Shut up,' she grumbles, sliding onto the barstool. Gina snickers but wordlessly hands over a shot of something. Clarke downs it in one, savouring the dull burn that goes with it.

'So... I'm guessing hair, freckles and fucking hands was pretty spot on huh?' she says and Clarke just glares at her even as her cheeks flush. 'He's gone to put on some actual clothes. Raven told him he could stay for the rest of the night.'

'Great,' she sighs.

At this point Raven bounds over and slings her arm around her shoulders. ‘So you disappeared,’ she quips, sliding in to the seat next to her.

‘If you two are really doing this, I need to be a lot drunker,’ says Clarke, and Gina immediately pours her three fingers worth of whiskey.

‘What are the odds,’ she continues, ‘That the guy you drunkenly complain about is the same guy who drunkenly complains about you to Gina? Amazing.’

She determinedly ignores that statement and drinks some her whiskey. ‘You are the worst. Both of you.’

Raven shrugs and nabs the glass from her, stealing a sip. ‘I’m just saying, if you asked, I’m sure freckle face over there wouldn’t mind giving you a _private_ show.’ She waggles her eyebrows and Clarke chokes on her drink.

‘That’s it. I’m going to call Wells and tell him not to marry you. You’re the absolute worst and definitely do not deserve this,’ Clarke tells her. Raven just cackles and dances out of the way before she could properly shove her off her stool.

‘He wouldn’t dare,’ she says lightly, accepting a cocktail from Gina with a smile, ‘He loves me too much.’

Clarke makes a face and pretends to gag. ‘God Reyes, marriage has already turned you in to a sap.’

‘Shut up,’ she says with no real heat behind the words. ‘I’m going to throw more darts at Skynet with Gina. You should stay here and talk to Washboard Abs.’ She jerks her chin and Clarke turns to see Bellamy coming from the back, now dressed in a pair of dark jeans and Henley with the sleeves pushed up. It’s a really good look on him and she has to take another sip of her drink to calm her nerves. ‘Who knows, maybe you might even go home with him.’ She snickers into her palm, ‘In the biblical sense hopefully.’

‘I hate you,’ she tells them, even as they walk away, arms linked and laughing.

Bellamy spots her easily and flashes her a sheepish grin as he walks towards her. ‘Hi again,’ he says as he leans against the counter, ‘Come here often?’

She snorts and rolls her eyes. ‘That was lame, but sure. The service isn’t usually this bad though,’ she says, gesturing to the empty bar.

He grins at her again, all boyish charm and she finds herself grinning back. Up close like this, he’s cute, with a dusting of freckles over high cheekbones and dark eyes framed with a set of even darker lashes. ‘Ah, well, we don’t need Gina. I happen to know my way around a bar.’

A single eyebrow rises as she regards him sceptically. ‘You know how to bartend?’

‘Yeah, I used to do it before-’ he pauses briefly and glances over at her. ‘I quickly learnt that I could make more money _on_ the bar than behind it,’ he says with a wry smile, ‘Grad school is a bitch to pay for.’

‘I can imagine,’ she replies before biting her lip. Maybe it’s her imagination, but she swears his eyes flicker down to her mouth for a brief second and a shiver runs down her spine. He quickly reaches over and grabs the bottle of whiskey and another glass, pouring out some for himself before sitting down next to her. From this angle she can see the tan column of his throat exposed by the open neck of his shirt, and for a minute she just wants to lean over and sink her teeth into his pulse point, trace the lines of his collarbone with her tongue while she rucks up his hair even further.

Clarke quickly shakes her head to get rid of these thoughts before going to say, ‘I guess that’s why we never really run into each other at the complex. We keep completely opposite schedules.’

The grin transforms into a smirk and this time she’s positive she’s not imagining it when he runs his gaze down the length of her body. The tingling is back under her skin, and she has to dig her nails into her palm to keep from squirming. When he finally looks back up at her, she can see how dark his eyes have gone, just like when he was dancing mere minutes ago and it sends a thrill through her. ‘Trust me, Princess, if I had any say in it, we would have properly met months ago.’

This time she can’t help the shiver that runs through her and he smiles something wicked. ‘Yeah?’ she asks, voice dropping an octave, ‘Then why don’t you do something about it?’

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and she stares, utterly transfixed. Bellamy leans forward, bracing one hand on the back of her stool as he says, ‘Who says I’m not?’

Not one to be outdone, Clarke crosses her legs, making sure to run her foot along the inside of his calf as she does so. A muscle jumps in his jaw and she smiles sweetly at him. ‘Don’t play with fire, if you can’t handle the heat, Blake.’

He shifts his hand so that it brushes against her waist as he leans in even further. ‘Please, if anyone here can’t handle it, it’s you.’

She mimics his movements and doesn’t even try to hide her grin when his eyes dip to the low collar of her dress. Tentatively, she places a hand on his thigh and his eyes snap back up to hers. ‘That a challenge?’

The hand which was resting on the counter comes to rest on her leg, delicately stroking the thin skin behind her knee while pushing the hem of her dress up just a bit. ‘You tell me.’

Not once breaking eye contact, Clarke downs the rest of her drink and makes a show of licking the stray drops off her lips. When she leans in closer, there’s barely an inch of space between them, their faces so close that she could count each individual freckle if she wanted to. ‘How about we get out of here?’ she suggests, tracing her fingers along the inner seam of his jeans.

The hand on her knee clenches. ‘Your place or mine?’ he jokes, and she can’t help but crack a grin as well.

From there it’s a just a flurry of motion, she leaves him to get her bag from the table while he finishes up with his drink and grabs his things, before she pointedly avoids Raven and Gina’s matching smirks as they watch her sneak out through the back with Bellamy. They only make it one block before she’s pushing him against a wall and sealing her mouth over his.

His hands are everywhere; hips, waist, thighs, and he pulls flush to him before reversing their positions and grinding his hips into hers. Clarke breathes a moan into his mouth and he does it again, this time harder while he sucks on her bottom lip.

What’s usually a fifteen minute walk from the bar back to her apartment turns into a thirty minute one, the two of them unable to stop touching and sneaking kisses against the sides of buildings as they go. When they finally make it back to the building, he pushes her against the side of the elevator and manages to suck a mark into her neck before they reach their floor.

Clarke pulls herself against him as he struggles to undo the lock on his door (‘Your place,’ she had said, ‘Histidine is too damn curious for her own good.’), panting in his ear and muttering about how much she needs him right now while her hands flirt with his belt buckle. He drops his keys twice before he finally gets the lock undone, and the moment he has her through the door, he’s pushing down the straps of her dress and hiking her up around his waist before pressing her into the wall.

‘Fucking minx,’ he pants against her throat while his fingers fumble with her underwear. Clarke doesn’t get to respond because then he pushes two fingers into her, easy as nothing and she keens loudly.

That’s how most of their night go, the first time they fuck is right there against the front door, with his pants hastily undone and pushed down just a little and her underwear shifted to the side before they slump down in a boneless, sated mess. It takes them a moment to catch their breaths before he slides out of her and leads her to the bedroom. More clothes are cast aside over this little trek and by the time they actually make it to the bedroom, she’s down to her bra and panties while he’s missing his shirt.

Bellamy gets her off twice more with his between her thighs before sliding up the length of her body, peppering kisses everywhere he can reach. This time he goes slower, all but grinding into her at a rhythm that has her shaking within minutes. He keeps up a steady stream of dirty talk, telling her all sorts of filthy things and Clarke can only moan in response and clutch his shoulders harder as she licks the taste of herself out of his mouth.

When she comes, it’s with her leg hooked around his waist, his hand on her clit and his mouth pressed against hers, not exactly kissing her, but breathing her in. The fire under her skin blazes higher than ever before as she falls apart, and it’s all consuming, like a supernova, and he soon finds himself following her over the precipice.

After, the two of them lie together, tracing the planes of each other’s bodies as they come down together. Bellamy grabs her hand and presses feather light kisses to the tips of her fingers in an oddly sweet gesture.

‘You staying?’ he asks, voice heavy, totally and completely wrecked. ‘I can always walk you home.’

She huffs a laugh and rolls on to her side. ‘I don’t think I can move right now,’ she confesses before smacking his chest as he smirks. ‘Don’t get cocky.’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ he chuckles, tugging on her hair so that she squeaks. ‘Well, if you’re staying, I’m going to sleep. You’ve worn me out, Princess.’ He tugs on her hair again when she preens. ‘Now who’s getting cocky?’ he teases, catching her hand and linking their pinky fingers together.

‘You’re a jerk.’

‘Yeah, but according to Gina, you like me.’

‘Shut up.’

He laughs quietly, and she feels the vibrations through the bed. ‘I like you too, Princess,’ he says drowsily as he finally begins to drift off.

Clarke smiles and squeezes his hand before giving in to sleep.

She expects to feel nervous the next morning, weird and out of place, but when she wakes up to Bellamy curled around her, a hand thrown over her waist and his faced pressed into her neck, she can only feel content. It takes them a while to get out of bed, sneaking kisses every few minutes. She doesn’t bother to put on anything else besides his shirt, to which his eyes darken and he kisses her soundly against the bathroom door.

He makes her pancakes for breakfast, though they come out slightly charred as they both get distracted making out against the counter for a few minutes.

As she sits there with him by the table, one of his hands on her thigh as she steals strawberries from his plate while he makes her laugh so hard that she almost chokes, Clarke is hit with a sudden wave of want. She wants this, lazy mornings filled with laughter and sneaky kisses and, looking up at Bellamy with his crazy bed head and eyes that crinkle when he smiles, she can see that he does too.

She drops her hand and laces her fingers with his, squeezing it. She thinks that maybe this could be the start of something and for the first time in her life, she feels excited about it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I spent like 20 minutes trying to name Clarke's cat only to use her full name once. I am a mess.  
> Come cry with me on tumblr about this show @hiddenpolkadots


End file.
